Null raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smirk. "I'm not sure 'romantic' is the word I would use to describe our partnership, Your Holiness," he replied, casting Sora a sidelong glance.
"Is that so?" Seraphel feigned surprise, leaning closer with a conspiratorial glint in her eye. "One barely escapes death alongside someone, and suddenly the air grows charged with unspoken feelings! Surely you cannot tell me that you haven't felt even the slightest hint of—dare I say—affection?"
Sora shot an incredulous look at her master. "That's not—well, I mean… It's complicated!"
"A classic case of denial!" Seraphel teased with unabashed delight. "You two are practically radiating an aura of companionship. Just look at the way you interact! It speaks volumes."
"Well, that's not exactly—" Sora began, but her words faltered as she met Null's gaze. He held a soft smile, one that made her soul thump for reasons she couldn't quite articulate.
"In all seriousness," she continued, "we've been through rough experience on this mission. It just made us a little closer, that's all."
"Yes, but that's what makes life intricate and beautiful!" Seraphel said, her tone shifting to one of sincerity. "The connections we forge through shared experiences often blossom into something deeper. Do not overlook the potential for something special."
Sora's breath caught in her throat, and she felt the weight of those words settle between them. The Pope's gaze softened, and for a moment, the divine aura surrounding her ethereal form seemed to resonate with the warmth of the human heart.
Sora swallowed.
Because it was not merely the near-death moment.
It was the way she now found herself aware of him—constantly.
Null exhaled slowly. "We've been through a lot," he said. "That's all."
But his voice lacked its usual certainty.
Seraphel smiled faintly.
"Shared trials carve pathways between souls," she said, her divine aura softening into something almost maternal. "Sometimes those paths end at companionship. Sometimes…" Her eyes gleamed. "They lead elsewhere."
Sora felt heat rise to her face again—but she did not step away from Null this time.
If anything, she steadied herself.
Seraphel pouted playfully after a moment, unable to resist one last prod. "Oh, And what's wrong with a little romance? It enriches life! And I dare say, you two would make a very charming couple."
Sora indigantly spoke "Mastee, You are enjoying this far too much."
"Immensely," seraphel admitted.
The playful banter continued, the joyous atmosphere rich with laughter. Seraphel couldn't help but relish in seeing her beloved disciple navigated new territory in her relationships, while also savoring the lighthearted sparks that danced between Sora and Null.
Then, mercifully, she relented—lifting her hands in surrender.
"Very well. I shall not press further." Her smile turned sly once more. "For now."
Her gaze lingered on them one final time.
The way Sora no longer flinched at standing beside him.
The way Null's stance angled subtly toward her—as if guarding without thinking.
Ah.
Yes.
The dynamic had shifted.
And Seraphel, ancient and perceptive, recognized the tender, unspoken aftermath of two hearts that had brushed too close to loss—and found themselves unwilling to return to distance.
"I will simply observe," she concluded lightly. "With great interest."
And perhaps, she thought, with a little encouragement when necessary.
The teasing lightness faded by degrees.
Not entirely—
But enough.
When Pope Seraphel spoke again, her tone carried the quiet gravity of someone who had watched empires rise and fracture.
"There is another matter," she said.
Sora straightened instinctively.
Seraphel lifted her hand, and a ribbon of pale light unfurled into a sealed document bearing the crest of the sea—trident and tide entwined in imperial symmetry.
"The Atlantis Empire has issued a formal invitation," she said. "To you."
Sora's lashes flickered. "To… me?"
"Yes."
The parchment hovered between them.
"The Emperor has announced a grand imperial banquet. Publicly. It will serve to present their 'Hero' before the eyes of the world. Not celebration," Seraphel added softly. "Declaration".
Sora understood.
This was not about music and crystal goblets.
This was about narrative.
"You and some elders will attend on behalf of the Divine Sanctum."
The air shifted.
Sora instinctively straightened. "Me?"
Sora absorbed that quietly.
"And you will not attend?" she asked.
Seraphel shook her head once.
"The Sanctum's presence does not require my physical attendance to be felt. If I appear personally, the banquet shifts from imperial declaration to theological summit."
A faint smile.
"That would overshadow their intention."
Null almost smiled at that.
Seraphel's attention then shifted to him.
The shift was softer now.
Measured.
"They did not send an invitation for you," she said plainly.
No accusation in her tone.
Just fact.
Null's expression did not change. "I assumed as much."
Seraphel's fingers folded lightly before her.
"They brought you into this world against your will," she said quietly.
"Tore you from whatever life you had. Whatever home you knew."
The hall seemed less radiant for a moment.
"And when they discovered you were… unblessed."
A faint tightening of her jaw.
"They discarded you."
No dramatics now.
No theatrical indignation.
Just quiet disdain.
Null's gaze lowered slightly—not in shame, but in acknowledgment.
"That," she continued, "is how power structures behave. They invest in what yields visible strength. They discard what does not."
Her golden gaze rested on him—not pitying.
Simply direct.
"The strong are elevated. The weak are overlooked. Willingness is irrelevant."
Silence lingered.
Her golden eyes sharpened—not at him.
At the idea.
"It is not moral. It is not kind. It is simply… how empires survive."
A breath passed between them.
Then her voice shifted—slightly warmer.
"However," she said gently, "do not misunderstand their judgment for truth."
Null's eyes lifted.
"I have received reports from the Radiant Commander regarding your training."
Sora glanced at him.
Seraphel continued, "Your aptitude with weapons is… very exceptional. Your adaptability. Your instinctual timing. Those are not traits of someone without talent."
Null blinked once.
"You lack sacred gift," she said evenly. "But you are not lacking potential."
She folded her hands lightly before her.
"If Atlantis has chosen to ignore you, that is their prerogative. But understand this—value is not determined solely by who announces it."
A pause.
"Continue to refine yourself. Strength is not exclusive to those chosen by heavens."
The words were calm.
Measured.
Not grand.
Not dramatic.
Just honest.
Null inclined his head slightly.
"Thank you, Your Holiness."
He inhaled once before continuing.
His voice was steady.
"I'll do my best. And someday… I'll become strong enough to prove my value in this world."
Sora glanced at him—something soft flickering in her eyes.
Seraphel nodded once, satisfied.
But inside—
Null winced.
God, that sounded painfully heroic.
Prove my value in this world?
How heroicly naive words.
He resisted the urge to grimace.
Seraphel nodded once, satisfied by the resolve in his tone.
To her, he appeared exactly what he seemed—
A young boy discarded too quickly by those who misjudged him.
Nothing more mysterious than that.
"Good," she said.
Then, lightly—
"And when you do prove them wrong, try not to look too smug about it. Excessive gloating lacks elegance."
Null allowed a small smirk.
"No promises."
Sora let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Seraphel's gaze returned to her disciple.
"You will represent the Sanctum with dignity," she said. "Observe carefully.
Speak cautiously. And remember—"
Her expression softened slightly.
"You stand there not as Atlantis' guest alone. You stand there as my disciple."
Sora nodded.
"Yes, Master."